Twelve Years Later: Shadows Searching
by Futuramakid
Summary: Are we the sum of our memories, or something more? No memory. Even his blue eyes are unfamiliar. Yet there are those that do recognize his face... and his memory is his own enemy...  Life Finds a Way sidestory / spin-off
1. Prologue

Twelve Years Later: Shadows Searching

by Futuramakid and Anthiena

DISCLAIMER: WE OWN NOTHING.

A/N: This is set in the alternate timeline set up by Life Finds A Way, so if anything seems off to you, check that story out and it'll probably be answered.

Mistakes. People make them-human, ghosts... some find their mistakes overlooked, others fatal or nearly so. To live sometimes is to hurt... something that he, as Fenton could not handle and he, as Masters, handled one side far too well. One put this sin... aside. The other fell into an abyss. That abyss ended up nearly swallowing the world until this abyss was averted for the past. This, however, did not end the existence of one who had lived for hurt. Instead, I chose to close away that hurt. To give a near empty mind to a creature that surely did not deserve it...

_An old man watched satisfied from his home in the Ghost Zone. Much had changed in the last while... but it was for the better._

_"The girl made a wise use of the privilege afforded her... All is as it should be...There will never be a disasteroid incident... The young Miss Gray will not become a threat to our kind... Daniel will head onward to his own destiny... and there will no longer be a homeless girl or a lost man in his shadow... It is all resolved... Everyone shall live. Life... found a way."_

_"There are still ways things go off roads, as I know you are perfectly aware, Master of Time," came a clear, pretty voice. In the clocktower was a young-looking ghost woman with purple hair afire, fair skin, green eyes and gentle eyes._

_"There are ways, yes... but such courses would be foreshadowed... and thus far... the ends are good."_

_She laughed. "I can feel the wrongness in here that can smash all the progress, you forget. I do not come as devil's advocate, though. The watched one has something of mine... and his... servant has another."_

_"Phantom is under control... pending a humane method of... disposal."_

_"...which is why you brought me here. He cannot be truly disposed of... humanely. But I can make him... not dangerous," she spoke._

_"Indeed," he replied, drifting to the thermos' current place, and lifting it... He could feel it shift in his hands, the Phantom was restless..._

_She smiled. "This is my penance, for the ring and crown enabling Pariah's rise... I made them and therefore him... and I will hamstring another not much different from him. After all... I am the Mistress of Emotions."_

_He raised a hand... and the ways out all sealed. If things failed, he dared not leave Phantom an easy method of escape..._

_"Are you ready?"_

_Her face was grim. "I am."_

_He opened the thermos... and wished he had any sort of god to pray to. The creature released was not much of a man anymore, the damage on his clothes reflecting his state of mind, coincidentally. He didn't see Clockwork, he saw her and he tackled the woman, who was unresisting. "Psyche, so good to see you..."_

_Clockwork watched on... ready to take action if need should be._

_"You... know me." She sounded unsurprised with a note of boredom._

_"In the biblical sense, yes... and I will know you again... and again..." He leaned in closely, licking her face. "...and again."_

_"Funny... I planned on doing almost the same and opposite of what you intend on doing to me... to you." She grasped his head and energy danced visibly around her hands, fingers on his temples. The face went slack and Phantom seemed to slowly collapse upon her, resting his head on her chest, like a true lover might. Psyche, after a time, pulled herself away, letting the creature roll off her to lay on the ground. She placed a hand on the not-quite a man's shoulder and his form changed, to something like a human. His fangs remained. Yet in other ways, he resembled Danny Fenton with a few touches of Vlad Masters. A homunculus of kinds, perhaps._

_"He has little access to his powers, I could not seal them all away and no real memories now. His emotions will be quite changed. I hope this will satisfy the Observants for you."_

_He nodded... _

_"I can keep him... safe. Safe and away from any possible... reminders."_

I turned the very thing he planned and used it on his mind. I will have to live his memories. His emotions. But this would have been this way when his destruction came. I could not allow all this and his death to hit me. And so, his life begins...


	2. Meet Cute

Twelve Years Later: Shadows Searching

by Futuramakid and Anthiena

DISCLAIMER: WE OWN NOTHING.

The renewed Phantom would awake in a room unfamiliar... to a great many clocks chiming the hour. At the foot of his bed, awaiting his consciousness, an old man... no, a young child... no, just a man, floated. The young ghost sat up. It felt like someone had carved a great deal from his head with a dull knife.

"Ugh... how much did I drink...?"

The man chuckled. "I shouldn't know. A young man dropped you off here, unconscious." That much was indeed, true.

It felt like his head was filled with sand. "Why is everything so muddy... where is this...?"

"This... is my home. As for you... I'm afraid I can't say. I'm just an old man... One who cares for the vagrants."

Phantom shook his heads, running his tongue over his teeth. "...why the hell do I have fangs, was I some freak...? Nevermind. Uh... lesse..." He tried to think, but it _hurt_. Everything seemed to be tinged in a haze of almost distant pain.

"Don't try too hard, son... For now, focus on the now. I... can offer you this place to stay, but... I would need you to do things for me. Earn your keep."

He nodded.

"I guess... don'... remember. Hurts. Can't even dig up my name..."

"...It doesn't matter for now... it may come back to you later... For now, I can just call you friend, hm?"

"Friend. Whatever." He shrugged, not caring. It hurt...

"Are you... hungry?" Clockwork was unsure how much the transformation had affected Phantom, he at least _appeared_ human again...

Phantom breathed evenly.

"Yeah... a little," he admitted.

"It's been long since I've had one such as you as a guest... but I'm certain I have something," Clockwork said, "come."

Phantom got up, feeling heavy as lead and followed. Nothing was clicking. Nothing at all. Clockwork led him to a small, disused kitchen... That seemed familiar, at least, but dimly so. Clockwork rummaged in the cupboard, and managed to put together a plate for Phantom... chicken soup, and a little bread. He made a note to restock it in the future... or the past. Phantom inhaled the first few bites, but seemed to recall manners. That was better, at least, but he seemed like he hadn't eaten in ages... which was, to say, technically true. He hadn't eaten in ten years.

Clockwork was mildly amused at the man's appetite...

"Well, since I'm not used to keeping this place stocked... That can be your first errand for me," he reckoned.

Phantom shrugged.

Clockwork pondered a moment, before asking with a small bemused grin... "I... presume you know what you like, correct?"

He reached in his coat, looking for currency with a good date...

"I think I'll know it, anyway." He shrugged.

The ghost handed him a couple hundreds, in date to 1996... "Well, then. All there is is to send you off, then."

"So how do I get out of here and how do I get back?" Phantom asked.

"Come, I will instruct you..." The ghost led him to a large room, with a screen in the center... He waved his staff, the image turned to a supermarket. He grabbed a time medallion from the rack- Phantom's original had been merged inside to anchor his existence.

"Put this on... And then step through the screen. When you're done, remove the medallion, and you'll be pulled back here, Along with anything on your person."

He took the medallion. "This thing looks weird, but okay. I'll just hide it in my shirt." He spoke, pocketing the money as well. Any robber would be very unpleasantly surprised if they tried for it...

Clockwork nodded.

"Do not tarry long..."

Phantom hopped through the portal, somewhat surprised by his nimbleness, but not too much. The supermarket was a plain store, and he arrived by its side.

He entered, finding a basket, carrying it, wondering a moment why the old man didn't need food, but decided not to worry about it; why borrow trouble? He went through the aisles, picking randomly, almost. He remembered some things went with others, at least... On one rather crowded aisle, he may have noticed a small girl- no older than seven, with a round ebony face framed by raven hair - seeming rather lost, and anxious... She made her way through the crowd, though she seemed unsure of where to head...

"Yo, kid, who are you looking for?" he asked.

She looked up... Her expression was unsure.

"...Daddy said not to talk to strangers..."

Phantom shrugged. "I'm called friend. Now I'm not a stranger. What's he look like? You know his name?"

"...My dad... he was just here... He's a grown-up, he's got a mustache... He wears glasses... he has black hair like me..." She paused a moment, concentrating... "An'...I think his first name's Damon."

"Damon..."

He thought. "Well, I think I saw him pass me over..." He led her to the back.

"Here."

Damon was in view.

"...Thanks, mister," the girl said, before rushing to her father.

"Valerie, there you are!" her father said relievedly, noticing her, and picking her up, "what have I told you about staying close to me, sweetie?"

"Whatever..." Phantom shrugged... and then paused. He turned back.

"What's her name?" Phantom asked.

"My name's Valerie," she replied, smiling, "Daddy, this man helped me find you." She smiled happily.

"Well, then, I'm much obliged," he said to Phantom, "thank you, sir."

"It's... nothing... gotta go. Just remember Mr. Friend."

"Okay, buh-bye, Mr. Friend," she said, waving as he walked away.

None were aware of the irony of the situation...

Phantom purchased the foods he had bought and found a spot to take off the medallion where it wouldn't be much noticed and returned to the tower. His head didn't hurt as much, now.

"Welcome back, friend," Clockwork said, "I trust you had no trouble."

Phantom shrugged.

"Nope. Just saw some little girl named Valerie. Cute kid, but whatever. Random."

The man smiled cryptically... "Well, then, that's good... you know where to put the goods..."

Phantom felt hazy on a lot of things... like things were blunted as he packed away things. He felt his body and once things were put away, he looked into a mirror. He had no idea what he actually looked like.

"I look... like a creep," he spoke to himself.

"You are odd, for a human..." agreed the man's voice from the door, "but then... looks can deceive."

"You are not human," Phantom spoke. "Am I?"

He felt at his fangs and brushed long black hair from his face.

"You... I do not know," he said," you arrived unexpectedly... and you appear human, for the most part. But there may be something else as well..."

He felt his face, looked into the reflection of cerulean blue eyes, a small beard and long black hair for a man in a ponytail... wild and a hard man's eyes.

"I don't know if I care... but I can learn what I am, I suppose. I'm probably not going to remember any time soon, am I." It was not a question. The man shrugged, and left Phantom alone... He would be useful, but his future... was unpredictable. Outside of time, Clockwork could see very little of his destiny... A wild card... but the experiment was in earnest motion. One that Phantom would not-could not- fail...


	3. Twice is Chance

Twelve Years Later: Shadows Searching

by Futuramakid and Anthiena

DISCLAIMER: WE OWN NOTHING.

A week later...

Phantom wandered around the place he lived, yet again, feet tracing the same path as it did what appeared to be the month before. He stopped at another ticking clock. This one was the loudest of the bunch. He put his hand through the thing, his frustration rising. Elsewhere, Clockwork noticed one less in the chorus of ticking... and traced the disturbance.

"...friend, why are you troubled so?"

"I feel stuck here!" he spoke angrily, "You and the sound of clocks are all I basically know!"

Clockwork paused a moment, thinking...

"...Very well... Come, friend..."

He led Phantom to the familiar chamber. On the screen this time, a peaceful area... a park. And on the edge of it... a fenced in area... the playground of a neighboring school.

His head didn't hurt anymore, though he still could not remember a blessed thing. Sure, he wondered why, but he decided that it must not have been too important if he'd forgotten all. He had discovered that with effort, he could float and produce a green light. He could also go through solid things outside of Clockwork's home. There was nothing, it seemed, that this light could do outside of lighting up a room enough to read. Phantom sighed. Another small, pointless errand?

"What now?" He asked in irritation.

"You are suffering cabin fever... Consider this a... holiday. Do what you will, at your leisure, so long as you do not disrupt things... And while you are out, get me a replacement in return."

He handed Phantom a medallion, and a small wad of money.

"When you are ready to return, you know what to do. But please... take your time, friend. Enjoy it. It should do you some good."

Phantom made a face and grabbed a time medallion and fled through the portal, feeling like a chastened child. He landed and started walking, stopping and resting against the green painted fence. He muttered to himself but breathed deeply.

"Easy... easy."

Lucky. He was lucky to have such an understanding host. He was grateful, but confused. He felt things dance at the edge of his vision, his hearing, things only he seemed to hear.

It was a rather nice day, mid-spring, in the early afternoon. A group of children, around fifth grade, played in the playground... Their sounds filled the air. In one corner of the playground, in a group of children by a lone basketball hoop, was a familiar face... the girl, Valerie. She stood, focused on the basket, in a rather awkward place for a shot- she was up at Horse. He watched her, surprised. He had suspected there was something special about the old ghost's portals, but this confirmed it. It was the little girl... She went for the shot, distracted at the last minute- her father was approaching from the end of the fence closer to the street. The ball bounced off the hoop in Phantom's direction.

Phantom looked in his direction, recognizing the man. Utterly confirmed.

"What do you know. Looks like we meet again."

He caught the ball, tossing it back to the girl.

She turned, just in time to catch it... The face was familiar.

"...do I know you?" she said, tilting her head, racking her brain, she knew the face from _somewhere_...

Her father leaned on the fence...

"...Oh, I remember you," he said, smiling jovially at the other man... "Mr. Friend, was it?"  
Phantom nodded.

"Been...a long time," he hesitated.

"Good many years... Seems my daughter's almost forgotten you," Damon commented.

"... where _do_ I know him from, Dad?" Valerie asked.

Phantom smiled crookedly.

Damon chuckled... "He's just an old good Samaritan, sweetie... A few years ago, when you were younger, you got separated from me at the supermarket, do you remember...?"

"Oh," she said, recognition dawning, "right, I remember now..."

"So, what're you doing here?" her father asked Phantom curiously.

"Nice to be remembered... you met me on the first day I can remember," he chuckled,"Just... taking a walk, clearing out my head."

"...Well, I'd love to stay and catch up," Damon said, "but my girl here's got a dental appointment, and we don't want to be late."

Phantom shrugged.

"Maybe we'll meet up someday, who knows."

Damon chuckled.

"Maybe. It's happened once," he commented, turning to his daughter, "Valerie, get your things, the car's unlocked in the parking lot. I'll meet you there..."

The girl nodded, and headed back into the building...

"Hope that head clears soon, Mr. Friend," he told Phantom, before turning back the way he came.

Phantom rubbed the back of his head. Odd... one would think that Phantom's aging-or lackthereof-would have been noticed. Maybe it was an effect of the medallions. Or Damon being in a hurry.

Phantom watched the kids play, thinking that surely he had played somewhere like it before. He couldn't remember. Soon, the children were gone, and the area was quiet, save the sounds of the park... Peaceful. He decided to move on, his anger a mere shadow at that moment. His hand... he studied it as he walked. He heard someone talking.

"Vladco swallowed up the company, but you would hardly know-sure, the payrate rose, but..." spoke a man, "something isn't right about the whole thing, the handwriting analysis doesn't match up and yet, _everyone_ saw the boss sign."

"Who cares. We get paid more and I can get medical now, Vladco saved my house with their medical coverage," came another voice.

"Vladco..." Phantom echoed. It sounded... familiar, but the association slipped away. He kept walking, to get a new, quieter clock.

Oh, well... what did one weird company matter?


	4. Three Times is Intentional

Twelve Years Later: Shadows Searching

by Futuramakid and Anthiena

DISCLAIMER: WE OWN NOTHING.

Several weeks later...

The same distant voices were audible now. The same sights from just beyond his field of vision were shadows almost real to his eyes. He knew they were not real, but he was disturbed. His mind was beginning to turn on itself. He realized this and wondered if this was why he was here. He began to believe he would never leave. Why he believed this, he could not say. He too began watching the viewers and never, _never_ did he appear. He was bound here and this knowledge-false, little did he know-made the shadows both weaker and the voices quieter, but also more insistent.

"Shut. Up," he ground out to himself. But it would not help. Clockwork sensed his unrest, and in time, had divined its cause. He approached Phantom...

"Friend... I know you are troubled. But all sorrows pass..."

"I see and hear... nothing. Nevermind."

Sane people didn't see or hear things that weren't there.

"How do they when you stand still?" he asked.

"...You will not always abide here," Clockwork replied, " but... where you will be, is unwritten..."

"...Come, friend... I believe there is a place you are..." he paused, "needed."

Phantom's downcast expression didn't change.

"Alright."

It was a ritual, now, it seemed... Clockwork led him to the chamber... It was the same park. But it was winter now... He handed him the medallion.

"Go... you will know what to do when you arrive..." Clockwork instructed cryptically...

Phantom barely placed it around his neck, passing through the portal. It didn't matter... not really, it seemed. The park was quiet, blanketed in snow... It was dark. In the back of the park, on a bench by a man-made lake, he could see the figure of a person in a rather heavy coat...

"Well," she said, "if it isn't my own guardian angel."

She looked to her watch.

"Right on time... but you _still_ haven't aged a day, eh?"

He blinked.

"Nah. I haven't. You knew I would be here? I must be going crazy..."

"...Twelve years ago... You told me you'd see me here, now," she said, "Christmas Eve, 2016."

He blinked. "So that's what year it is. I kept thinking 2015 for some reason."

"...Is time just like that for you? Do you just... lose track, since you don't age...?" she asked curiously...

He shrugged. "I wish I knew. I don't remember anything past a certain time and to me, it wasn't that long ago."

He sighed.

"I don't even know my name. Friend is just what I'm called."

"...For what it's worth... you've been a good one to me, when you run into me."

She smiled softly.

He chuckled. "Heh. All I know is the ticking of clocks that run at different speeds."

She had grown up... was she twenty five now?

"...Ticking... Maybe you are human, then," she mused... "time travel... It wouldn't exactly be the weirdest thing I've dealt with...and that'd explain you not knowing your plans, you... You haven't been there yet," she realized.

"Time travel would explain a lot..."

Wait.

"My plans?"

He laughed.

"What damn plans would _I_ have?"

"Twelve years ago," she said, "you told me to meet you on this date. At this place. But when you showed up, you didn't even know the date."

He made a noncomittal sound.

"We'll see where _that_ goes," he murmured.

"...It happens. It has to, if it didn't this wouldn't," she commented.

"Well my future may be in yours too, you know," he pointed out, "Even if a part is in your past, too." He stared at her face, reaching and touching her cold cheek.

"Hnnm."

He rested a palm, unwary and perhaps not thinking of the personal space he was intruding on.

She tilted her head at him...

"...Maybe so," she said, "maybe that's why you keep running into me."

So warm. He pulled back his hand.

"That is the first time I've touched someone that I can remember..."

"I'm honored," she said, smiling lopsidedly.

He looked down at his lap.

"I don't want to even know what I have forgotten..."

He seemed to fold in on himself, a hard proposition with his muscular frame.

"...how... how long have you not been able to remember things?" she asked, "if it's not prying..."

He considered.

"Maybe... three months. I'm not sure. Maybe six, less than a year, I know that much. I... uh... don't keep good track."

"...And in that time you've... come to see me... four times... Well, three."

He shrugged, smiling.

"Oh, I have something for you," she said, "it's Christmas, after all."

She pulled out a small piece of paper from her coat, and handed it to him...

"My dad turned this up just after the second time we met. I did it for my journal at school the next day, he'd put it in my keepsake box with all the others..."

He looked surprised and looked at the paper. "What...? Why?"

It was a crude drawing... and writing. Large lines. Filled years ago. The drawing depicted a young Valerie, her father, and himself. "Yesterday I met a Friend at the supermarket. I was lost, and scared, and he helped me find Daddy. Then I was happy," it read.

He laughed, his mouth, revealing his fangs.

"I thought you'd appreciate that," she said, grinning.

He folded it carefully and put it into a pocket.

"...It's cold out," she said, "you... wanna come with me, or do you have to pull a vanishing act as usual?"

He thought.

"Let's call it a date."

He grinned.

She took his hand, and started back towards her home...

"...So... where do you live, then?"

He shrugged. "A tower with the old man who found me. He helped me, I help him. He really likes clocks."

"...he does, does he...?" she said, wheels in motion...

He nodded.

"Do you mind if we... held hands? I think I miss touching."

She blushed, just a bit...

"Sure," she said, smiling a bit awkwardly...

She let one hand from its current glove... hand held his hand.

He lit up his hand, warming both hands as he held hers. He brought it to his face, rubbing it against his face and kissing her knuckles.

"Thank you."

She looked at the glow, surprised...

"...how... what...?"

"I don't know how I do it, either Val," he told her.

"...That looks like... Like an ecto-charge," she commented.

"A what? A charge sounds useful, this really isn't."

He began growing dizzy and the light faded. "...ow."

"An ecto-charge, like a ghost does before they expel ecto-energy," she said, "though I've never seen one held low-power like that... are you okay?"

"Yeah... when I float too long or use that light..."

He stopped.

"It's like I shouldn't."

He was sure he could hold it, but it hurt to.

"...Maybe you're a ghost," she mused, "or part-ghost..."

"Ghost, maybe. I can go through things here... but not in the tower. It's weird."

"You don't... really look like a full-ghost, though," she said, "full-ghosts have green or bluish skin... like it's dead. You look much more... alive."

"There are part ghosts?" he asked, confused and he grasped his head as a stabbing pain hit him.

_Of course, idiot. You __**were**__ one!_

He shook his head.

"I _was_ one...?"

"...You okay, friend?" she asked, concerned, putting an arm around him, "maybe you should lie down when we get to my place, it's not far..."

"I'm... fine. I... I think I remembered something."

"Oh?" she asked, "what is it?"

He kept close to her, liking the contact.

"I was a hybrid... but nothing else I can remember yet."

She nodded... "Makes sense, at least..."

They arrived. It was nice inside the house... It was her own place, a lease. Modest, but cozy. She removed her coat, hanging it by the door.

"You want coffee, or hot cocoa or something?" she asked, before adding, "you _do_ eat, right?"

He sat down.

"No roommates? Impressive."

He too removed his coat, hanging it. Or trying to. It vanished as it left his fingertips.

"Uh, yeah."

He didn't ask.

She started up Mr. Coffee, and took a seat by him...

"Yeah, it's just me..." she said, shrugging, "I've been managing on my own a while now. But this is just a lease. Someday I'll have a nice house..."

He felt... decidedly odd. Something whispered to take advantage, another to just talk, still another to go back to Clockwork.

"That's cool," he replied.

"So, you don't have any name other than friend... You should pick a name," she said, smiling a bit.

"I'm... just a ghost. A phantom."

He waved off.

"Phantom... that works. Sounds better than friend, at least."

She chuckled, letting an arm go over his shoulder.

"Phantom..." he repeated, "..._Phantom_..."

He grasped his head.

"I... that... that was my name..."

"...Phantom, are you okay?" she asked, "I mean... is there _anything_ I can do for the pain?"

He shook his head.

"Not that I'm aware of... it's... maybe I don't want to remember anything. What if I was this huge, crazy jerk?"

"You? A jerk?" she said, letting out a small laugh, "...Phantom... if you _were_, you're certainly not anymore. You've been there for me when I needed someone, like a guardian angel."

"Maybe so. But angels don't want to take their charges to bed."

He smirked and then caught himself.

"...sorry. Shouldn't have said that."

"My, forward... but I'm in a good mood."

She pecked him on the cheek.

"I'll let it slide."

He smiled crookedly.

"Heh... thanks."

It didn't stop him from wondering or thinking about it.

"...that was your first time, wasn't it?" she teased, getting back up and bringing two cups of hot cocoa, with marshmallows in it.

He went red.

"Nooo idea."

She blew hers, sipping from it...

"You can sleep with me, though," she said, "it's cold out, and I'm not gonna kick you out in it. But no action."

He chuckled.

"Don't worry, I wouldn't do that..."

She smiled.

"You're a good man, Phantom... and that's hard to find, these days."

He shrugs.

"Whatever works."

She laughed, leaning into him as she sipped her cocoa...

"Merry Christmas," she said, realizing she hadn't wished it to him earlier.

"Merry Christmas." He made a strangely embarrassed expression before drinking some of the cocoa.

She sipped...

"This is nice. You should come by more often," she said. He nodded.

"Maybe someday."

He drank more cocoa, warming.

"You know... I had a bit of deja vu about Vladco, but it was probably nothing."

She shrugged, "Maybe you worked there or something, who knows..."

"Maybe, but I doubt it with the facial hair," he spoke, "Makes me look like a creep..."

"Eh, I like it," she said, feeling it with her free hand, "makes you look... rugged."

He smirked widely.

"That's nice to know."

She finished her mug, sitting it down, and cuddled into him just a bit.

He hugged her close, it came naturally enough, though no funny business.

"...You... This feels familiar," she mused, "like... Like I've done it before..."

"Who knows. Maybe we have and I don't remember."

She shook her head...

"I'd remember..."

"Huh. Who knows." He leaned in close enough to smell her. She smelled honest. She felt right with him, almost at home... she relaxed, laying her head on his chest... He wasn't sure when he fell asleep, the mug thankfully empty. He didn't dream, he never dreamed anymore. Or at least, he had no dreams he could recall. But when she awoke, he would be there no longer, the only evidence she didn't dream the encounter, the medallion on couch beside her... He awoke on his own bed, blinking in confusion.

"Ah, you're awake," Clockwork observed.

"Wait... how did I get here?" He massaged his temples, sitting up.

"I brought you back home," he said, "I was concerned... she was... aggravating your condition."

"My... condition? How?" he seemed confused.

"You... are not ready to face who you were. Not yet."

He blinked.

"You... you know who I was. Why? Why am I not ready?" he asked, emotions curling in him, heavy and hot. He was confused and angry. "Why not?"

Clockwork's face was calm as death...

"...You lack many things. One is the strength to learn the truth and objectively accept it, without lashing out. But... I believe there's something we must do, posthaste, either way..."

Phantom tilted his head. "...and what is that?"

"You have something you must do... Twelve years earlier, I believe she said."

"Oh yeah... before I forget," he realized, "and so she doesn't."

Clockwork nodded...

"Come... and be gentle with her. She... was fragile, at that time..."

He looked down.

_...my guardian angel..._

Twelve years earlier, from the perspective of Valerie Grey...

The words echoed in her head.

_I'm not going to let you hurt him. Not my father._

The words that, in an instant, had shattered everything she thought she knew about ghosts. If they weren't just monsters... god, what had she done in the past months? She'd _hunted_ them. _Destroyed_ them... She wondered how many of them had families... children... and it haunted her. It ate at the back of her mind. How damned had she made herself? Valerie sighed, sinking against the park bench... and she cried... A warm hand touched her shoulder.

"Why are you... crying?"

She looked up... Surprise took her face...

"...I..." she began, then sighed, "it's... a long story, Mr. Friend..."

"Mind if I sit then...?" He sat next to her without a yes or no.

"...It all started... Well, with a boy I guess..." That much made her chuckle a bit to herself, in reflection, "doesn't it always..."

"...kinda. Yeah..." He chuckled. "Only it was an old man for me."

"But I didn't know he was a boy at the time... He... had another form. As a ghost. He... Well, it was an accident, but... as a ghost, he... wrecked some of my life pretty bad. My dad lost his job, that lost us our old house, he had to get back to working hours I _know_ he can't really manage anymore... And... I hated it. I... I hated ghosts for being monsters that could do that to him. So... I hunted them. I destroyed them."

She lowered her head a bit, in shame.

"But... now I'm not so sure they _are_ monsters, and... If they aren't, and I've destroyed _so many_ of them... what does that make _me_? "And... how many of them might've had families, like me... and..." She ran out of words.

"I don't know... Valerie. That is what it makes you... and some do, some don't... but making up to the kid might be a good start."

She nodded...

"I know, but... Geez, how am I supposed to? I mean... I've been trying to _kill_ him for a long time, would he even _believe_ me?"

"I mean... I... _I_ never believed him..." she added, softly...

He made a face. "Talking the talk is one thing... walk the walk and not say a word. He'll be impressed. He'll get the picture and come to you."

She nodded... "Thanks for the advice, Mr. Friend..."

Something seemed to dawn on her face...

"...You haven't aged a day," she said, amazed.

He shrugged.

"My life has been weird from the first thing I remember."

She laughed a bit, "Well, I know weird too, sir, but... It's probably just good genes."

"I... I think I'm gonna head home. Thanks for listening..." she said, smiling softly, "I... I really needed someone to talk to..."

He chuckled.

He chuckled. "Well... Christmas eve twelve years from now, I know what I'll get... a favor and this."

He dug out the paper. "Thanks in advance. Sort of."

He took off the medallion and vanished before her eyes.

"...wow..." she said, wondering if she'd just imagined the whole thing...


	5. The End and Epilogue

Twelve Years Later: Shadows Searching

by Futuramakid and Anthiena

DISCLAIMER: WE OWN NOTHING.

Twelve Years Later... Christmas morning.

Valerie woke up... and found Phantom gone. All that was left was his medallion.

"He's real. He _is_ real," she said to herself, before realizing... "then he's in trouble. I mean, he wouldn't just leave without telling me..."

She looked at the medallion...

"What do you _mean_?"

She put on her coat, and rushed out the door... There was only one person she knew who'd be able to help now... It was a bad time, she realized, after all, it was Christmas day... but a friend was in trouble.. She arrived at Danny's within less than half an hour... She rang the bell, pausing finally to breathe...

She was answered by a rather confused looking Danny, still in his pajamas.

"...Valerie, what are you _doing_ here?" he asked... before he noticed what was in her hand.

"...where did you get that?" he asked, his voice serious.

"It's a long story, Danny..."

Elsewhere...

Phantom stood, stretching.

"Man, oh man..."

He was going over the parts of a clock that had quit working, drawing how he had found it and going though the parts. He had thought the break would be obvious. He was wrong. Clockwork watched... Phantom, the one who would have destroyed _everything_... and now, he was fixing things. He _had_ changed... but he wondered if he had changed _enough_. Phantom's future was an uncertainty... A hornets nest, one he did not want to prod too hard. Phantom was as of yet, unaware of the irony. He wanted things to make sense. In his life and around him. Seeing what made a clock tick would be a good way to start making things make sense. It wasn't like his powers were useful, they were just annoying. The two were interrupted, however, when in the main chamber of the tower, came careening a minivan-sized hovercraft- the Specter Speeder. Someone had gotten his driving skills from his father. Or at least concerned enough to drive like his father.

Phantom looked up from his work, annoyed. "The hell..."

From the passenger side of the vehicle, dropped a concerned looking Valerie... and floating out the driver's door... Danny clutched the medallion.

"Clockwork, something's-"

Phantom looked very surprised indeed. What...? Danny stopped when he saw Phantom... He didn't entirely recognize him like this, but he was familiar...  
Phantom stared at Danny. "...what... what is this?"

Valerie rushed to Phantom... and embraced him.

"Phantom, thank goodness, you're okay, I was worried..."

"..._Phantom_!" Danny said, dumbfounded.

The guy was athletic, but not terribly muscular. His hair was longish, but the eyes...

"...how do we share eyes?"

"Valerie, get away from him. Now."

Phantom was in shock.

"Who are you? And why are you telling her what to do?" Phantom scowled.

"Oh, like you don't know, _Phantom_," Danny spat, "now I don't know what kind of mindgames you've been playing with her, but game's up."

Phantom snorted. "_Games_? I'm too lazy. Who are you and how do you know me?"

"Danny, what is _up_ with you?" Valerie asked, disturbed.

"Valerie... That man is a killer," Danny said, "when I was fourteen, that man... tried to kill everyone I had cared about... and Mr. Lancer. "

He blinked. "I don't know you, I don't know that name, either. I hardly even know _my_ na..." he stopped. "I don't remember anything past a year ago..."

"You know exactly what you did, Phantom," Danny said, "You destroyed everything. Everything you could touch... At least you would've, had you come to pass..."

His face was slack.

_Not ready to face the person I was... had that been what the old man meant?_

He drew out the paper that Val had drawn him. "This was the first thing I knew... I don't know what you are talking about! All I can do is little things!"

"Yeah, _riiight_," Danny said, "let's give you a refresher."

He blasted Phantom.

"Danny, no, don't do this," Valerie said, "he's not what you say he is!"

Phantom was knocked back and rage began to cloud his mind.

"You idiot, watch the clocks!" He floated up high, trying to avoid the guy. "What is your problem?"

He fought the rage. He needed to _think_, not react like the old man said.

"You are my problem, Phantom. You are _precisely_ my problem. _Everything_ that could have _ever_ gone wrong with me."

It wasn't long until the dizziness set in. He began sweating with the effort of flight.

"I don't remember!"

Danny flew up to Phantom's level.

"Tell her who you are. Tell her what you _did_, Phantom. You _know_ what you did."

Phantom had to fight now to stay aloft.

"I... I don't know what you are talking about! I was just Mr. Friend for all I knew until yesterday!"

He began sinking, unable to keep it up.

Danny laid blows into him.

"Liar! You _liar_! _Tell_ her!"

Phantom cried out.

"I DON'T _REMEMBER_!"

His cry became a small, weak ghostly wail before he began to plummet to the floor.

Danny was sent into a wall..

A shot hit Danny in the back... Valerie had managed to the specter speeder and gotten in the armory.

"Valerie? What is _wrong_ with you?"

_...weak, weak, weak..._

the voices mocked Phantom as he now pushed himself off the ground.

_Make it hurt as much. Make him hurt...!_

They screamed. Phantom growled, his body hurting. This wasn't in his memories, either. But something told his it ought to.

He stood, fighting.

"Don't... wanna... what for...?" He spoke. "Shut up..."

"Look at him Valerie. He's a mess, a _monster_."

"Looks aren't everything... and twelve years ago, I knew _you_ were a monster."

"How easily we forget," came a wry voice from the sidelines, "it's only by sheer luck, that you are not he..."

"..._what?_" Valerie said, shocked.

Phantom grasped his head, waves of pain hitting him.

"...he...help..." He fell to his knees. He wasn't ready yet! He felt agony from his memories pushing forward. He curled in on himself. "...hurts..."

"...Look, Valerie, he's... He's me. Sort of. He's a me that could've been..."

At that point, Val wasn't listening... She had rushed to Phantom's side...

"Phantom... Please... don't go on me, please..."

He fought.

"...somebody... make them go away..."

She put her arms around him, embracing him, her head next to his...

"Phantom... I'm here, please... Don't go..."

"Good..." he managed, relaxing into her, trying to clear his mind, but things kept getting muddier, "...kill.. me.. before I..."

"...No, Phantom... I... _no_... You _can't_ die, not _now_..."

Clockwork watched... even _he_ had difficulty keeping his gaze objective on the events before him.

He gave in.

"Too late... ten years too late..." The cloud around his memories dissipated. "Twelve years too late, really."

His voice changed, sounding nasty and bitter.

"Phantom... what's happening?" she asked, noticing his change in demeanor, "please... it's not too late... I... I love you..."

"It was too clever by half, for Psyche to cloud my mind with pain..."

His face went blank again.

"What?"

"...I... I said I love you," she said, still clinging to him...

What man was he, really? He... didn't know. He didn't understand.

His hands shook. "You are all I knew..."

Danny picked up the paper, and read...

"...you... you really didn't know, did you...?" he realized.

"...and I... God, I just... _Danny Fenton, you are a screw-up!_"

Clockwork shook his head.

"No, Danny, you are just... a work in progress. Like us all."

Phantom closed his eyes. And closed a door inside of him. The pain stopped.

"...what just happened? I was just fixing the clock for the old man."

"...you don't remember?" Valerie asked, tilting her head a bit... she was still embracing him.

The voices whispered, the shadows beckoned. He blew out a sigh.

"No idea, just a black out..."

And the voices. The shadows. But he could ignore them. For now.

"...Maybe it's better that way," Danny mused, "I... Well, good luck to both of you. I'll let someone more perceptive handle things here..."

Danny floated back to the Specter Speeder, feeling much a third wheel... He couldn't leave, though, not yet...

"Whatever..." Phantom shrugged, "See, my life is weird."

Valerie chuckled... "it's worth being a part of it..."

It occurred then, to Clockwork... Perhaps this would do more good for him than his work...

He embraced her back. And he kissed her.

"...is it truly worth it to you...?" he asked, "what would you do, for him...?"

Valerie turned...

"what did you have in mind...?" she said, tentatively.

He didn't understand love. But he could try to at least hug her. For now.

"...You, seem to help him... with his past. If you are willing to fully open yourself... take him into your life..."

"...yes...?" she asked.

"...You may take him with you. If you believe he is worth the keep."

"...I can go?" Phantom seemed surprised

.She gaped a moment... "just like that?"

"Just like that... but... he is your responsibility."

She nodded. "In a heartbeat, I'd take it..."

Phantom looked down. "Old man..."

"...yes, Phantom?"

Clockwork turned to him, awaiting his response.

"...will I ever be ready to... feel?" he looked down,"It's like I'm a walking black hole."

"...Perhaps... Though that is not _my_ domain... There is someone who may... help you, there..."

A musical laugh echoed through the tower.

"You did feel, Phantom..."

A woman seemed to wink into view.

Purple flaming hair, green eyes, pointy ears, a Greco-roman dress...

"Ah, Valerie, the Red Hunter."

"...you... know me?" she asked the woman.

"I know all who _feel.._. I am Psyche, Mistress of Emotions."

Psyche... the name felt familiar... Her mind thought, and it went to the myths she'd read in college, in her literature class...

"Psyche... As in, Greek myth? The tale of Psyche and Eros?"

"My story is not entirely true of course, but yes."

"Wow..."

She smiled wryly. "Eros never touched me, he didn't care for me... but the story was more important than the truth. Pieces of truth are indeed there..."

"Psyche. Well, I suppose you have a better judgment here than I... shall I let him leave?"

Clockwork smirked, just a bit. She sighed.

"Right now, he is like a small child. He understands needs, wants, desires... but he would not understand love... not yet. In time... or maybe never. That, Val, will depend on your choice. There is always a choice. It is lucky for all that he absorbed two things I made. One that you wore."

"Which choice is that...?" Valerie asked.

She chuckled.

"Run forward or have the nights. Either way... what happens to him depends on you..."

"I..." she said, "I... I want what's best for us, but... I suppose I can't know..."

She was silent several moments...

"...Whichever is best for him. Please..." She closed her eyes, "I... I want him to be happy..."

Small hands touched her shoulders.

"So be it." Psyche intoned.

The world seemed to lurch sideways and her surroundings... were simply of her living room, unchanged from when she'd left. She took a deep breath as she opened her eyes... and the tears escaped...

"Why couldn't he be here... why...?"

The walls held no answer.

She walked from her living room, towards her bedroom, plopping facedown across the bed...

"You have a soft bed."

Val looked up, disbelieving...

"Phantom!"

He grinned from the corner, approaching her.

"You know, I don't know what makes me happy yet... but I do know what I like..."

He embraced and kissed her hungrily. She held him tightly... tears still streaking her face.

"...I love you, Phantom..."

"The old man said that everything is as it should be... I know."

And that, for that moment, was enough...

Years Later...

Mr. Friend Service. Everybody had heard of it. A couple of kids answered the phone sometimes-anything could be done there. A relative found. Ghosts warded away. A clock repair even. Within the shop worked a man seemingly forever young, a fierce young woman and their two children. They never said as much, it seemed, but the man seemed to reserve his brightest smiles for her. His gentleness for her. He never said a word, but walked the walk. Surely as the sun rose, the man loved her deeply. And certain as the moon, she returned it.

_Don't stop believing... hold on to that feeling. Streetlights, people, in the night..._


End file.
